


Twilight

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, First War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 15:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius vents his anger.  Remus, a little black sports car, and a little back road space help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

Remus waits for the neighbor’s dog to start barking before he sits up straight. His hand hovers above the corner table, just to be safe. The first three times had been false alarms, but he still wants to be ready. He waits with eyes fixed straight on the dark wooded door at the end of the short, windowless hallway. The gate swings shut angrily.

That’s enough to confirm what he’d been thinking as Remus stands swiftly, snatching up the materials he has laid out on the table hours before. The door opens quietly, a stark contrast to how the gate snapped so brutally wide open, and the corner of Remus’ mouth twitches up.

So…Sirius thinks him asleep and does not wish to wake him. As if he could sleep, knowing that…

But Remus doesn’t have time to finish his train of thought before Sirius is before him.

“Here,” Remus speaks softly and tosses first a towel and then a set of keys to Sirius.

Sirius opens his mouth but Remus shakes his head, nodes toward the towel and then to the keys, making his meaning clear. Clean up first, puppy. Sirius can almost hear the words that Remus has not spoken.

The grim Animagus towels his hands clean while Remus’ keen golden eyes slowly watch the red at Sirius’ finder tips disappear.

He has a feeling that it’s not paint.

Sirius does not resist as Remus carefully takes the stained dish towel away the allows himself to be led back out the door. He lets Remus guide him to the car parked at the end of the driveway. It’s parked at the end of the driveway because the automatic on the garage door had broken several months ago and neither had ever gotten around to repairing it.

Sirius likes the way that the tawny haired boy presses behind him and guides his hand so that the key glides directly into the lock and does not miss and scratch the gleaming black paint.

From there, he can do it. He needed his shoulder to lean on, and Remus had willingly given it. Now…Now he just wants to go. To go fast. Sirius is glad that Remus has not said a thing about his seat belt. It’s hard to go fast when you’re being restrained.

He waits until Remus’ door is shut before he pulls it into reverse and backs down the drive at sixty miles an hour all in one smooth motion. Remus blows the bangs that fall into his face away and wonders how Sirius can vent his frustration so…Gracefully. He waits until they’re on the freeway, already pushing ninety before the car’s front tires even have a chance to hit the turn off, before he turns on the radio and keeps the volume low.

The glaring guitars clash well with Sirius’ mood, Remus reflects.

Sirius decides at last that he likes the car. They’ve been driving for a little under an hour at one hundred miles an hour. The small, two door, black sports car may not be the bike, but it really isn’t all that bad. It’s small, yet at the same time big enough for the two of them, but not cramped. And it is fast, as Remus had said it would be when they had been checking it out in the glass walled show case room.

Yes, it is definitely fast, Sirius concludes as he watches the speedometer read one hundred forty. As he watches the speed rise his eyes also wander to where his gas gage rests, as it is slowly guzzled away. But that’s okay, they always keep the red gas can in the trunk filled for instances such as these. He could not be bothered to stop at a gas station.

Remus sits back in his seat, muscles lax as he watches the dark blurs of trees and other such forms of nature fly by. He isn’t all too concerned as they start to go by faster and faster with every mile the tires cover.

Sirius likes to go fast, this he knows well. But that doesn’t make him a reckless driver. Even though the man beside him only keeps one hand on the wheel, Remus does not see a reason to worry. He trusts Sirius, knows that he would never hurt him, and that includes crashing the car. Not even on accident would it happen. It just was not possible.

“Your hands,” Remus speaks calmly to his reflection in the tainted window. Without looking, he knows that Sirius is raising an eyebrow. Silent, what about them?

“Whose blood is it.” A statement, not a question. It is not a question of what it is, rather of whose it is. Was. Had been. Before.

He would not have needed to ask if it were not for the strong sent of blood to his sensitive nose that was making him more than a little dizzy. Although Sirius had toweled his hands clean, the blood had seeped into the cracks of his finger prints. Where it etched itself black. If it were not for his werewolf enhanced sense of smell he would have never known that Sirius’ hands had once been tainted.

“I don’t know.” Short, but not snippy. Sirius is slowly cooling down. Remus feels it safe enough to take his eyes off of the window and to instead lock them on the man next to him.

Is that because you don’t know their name or because there were too many of them that you lost track of whose blood was spilt all over your hands?

He wants to ask, not cold and cutting, just…Ask. But he doesn’t, nor will he ever. The same way he has never asked before and the same way he will not ask at anytime in the near future. But still, he does wonder and does not ask.

Although Sirius’ shoulder muscles are no longer tensed, it does not mean that inner battles are not being fought. Battles for the purity of his soul. Purity that had been already lost.

No, so instead Remus stays quiet and watches the glow from the lights hanging high and far apart on the strip that divides the two lanes of coming and going. Watches them dance across Sirius’ face. Sometimes in shadow, the rest in light. But mostly in light.

Remus soon loses track of how long they have been driving and wonders how late -- or is it early, now? -- it really is. He looks to the dash bored only to have a flashing twelve o’ clock glaring back at him. He’d forgotten to set the damn thing again.

Well, whatever time it was, it was so ungodly that there were hardly any cars out and the few that were they passed quickly and they were forgotten in the folds of time.

He’d have to set it, Remus thinks as he sinks back into the comforting leather seat. Something for his to do list. Along with the auto garage door opener. And the laundry…And that letter that he still has to write to his cousin explaining why he couldn’t make it to the wedding and all the very best wishes…And they still didn’t have any milk in the house…And…

Street lights are not the only light that dance across Sirius’ face. Flashing red, blue, and white lights join those of the dim yellow glow. The blaring siren overrides that husky voice singing with the bass and the guitar in the din of the black interior of the car.

Sirius sees nothing but sporadic lights in the rear view mirror. But they’re still a while off. He grits his teeth together, thinks this is the last thing that he needs at the moment and pushes the magically enhanced car to two hundred ten. He can outrun them no problem. He is going way too fast and it’s dark out. He can outrun them no problem.

Remus watches the lights in the mirror and waits a minute to see if Sirius will pull over by himself. He already knows that he will not. When he doesn’t, as Remus knew he wouldn’t, the werewolf speaks, soft and sure.

“Sirius,” The slight inclination of his head lets Remus know that he has Sirius’ full attention, even if his eyes are busy elsewhere. “Sirius, pull over.”

He waits as the words sink in and knows that Sirius’ teeth are grinding together as he, reluctantly, pulls over. Well…It’s a lot more like slamming on the breaks and coming to a complete halt in the middle of the freeway. Caught off guard, Remus lurches forward, nose ending up mere inches from the window shield.

Behind them he can hear the squealing of the brakes as the police car comes to a less than perfect stand still as well. The door slams shut and it reminds Remus of the clang of a prison door. He hopes that they’ll get away with just a ticket and not with an over night sentence instead. He hopes that Sirius is calm enough to hold his tongue. Gold eyes follow Sirius as he throws the door open.

Sirius' long fingers are flexing and his wand is halfway slipped from its hiding spot up his sleeve.

“Padfoot--”

“I’ll only be a minute,” Sirius growls and steps out of the car.

“What seems to be the problem, officer?--” Is all Remus has a chance to hear before Sirius slams the door shut and Remus is blocked off from the world outside.

Shoulders tense, the tawny haired stares down at the hands folded in his lap and waits for Sirius to return. He guesses that about two minutes time -- guesses because the digital clock is on perpetual twelve o’ clock -- passes from the second Sirius stepped out of the car to the moment he sits back down and bolts off. He left the car running.

Remus bites his lip and looks at the side mirror, but they’re already eating up the distance and he can hardly make out the police car. What he can make out is that the lights are still flashing. He had not seen any green light but…There was more than just one way to kill a man. He’d make sure to drive by tomorrow to make sure that the fallen police officer had gotten the required help.

He sits back again and writes the unease off his mind, reassures himself that everything is fine even when it’s not.

“Fucking cop,” Sirius spits out, like a dragon shooting fire.

Remus perks slightly and turns a fraction of an inch toward him. It is the first time that Sirius has spoken that night.

“Made me stop.” He did not speak again for another ten miles, seeing how Remus could not rely on the defective digital clock to keep track of the measure of time.

“I don’t ever wanna stop, Moony.”

Softly spoken, and Remus feels his heart melt. He just wants to hug Sirius and run his hands through his hair, hide him away from the evils of the world, and tell him that everything will be all right.

“I know, Pads.”

There is nothing more than that to say.

They lapse back into silence as Sirius drives faster and faster. Remus watches the exit signs go by, more unclear every time. Everything blends together beyond the window, everything looks exactly the same. It’s as if there is no difference between a building and a tree. From his side of the window, he really doesn’t think that it matters.

Then, a green exit sign passes by that makes Remus sit up a little straighter. It’s not what it says, hell, they were going so fast he couldn’t even read the damn thing. What intrigued Remus most of all was the way that it looked. Beaten, bent, holes through it, dirty, graffiti plastered, old.

It doesn’t matter what it says. He knows exactly what it says without ever having to see the white, for he knew it was white, paint.

Dalton

5 miles

Left

Remus knows Dalton, knows it well. Had been taught of it from his dad when he was little. When the two of them would take a day off and drive to Dalton when the weather was nice and fish, fly kites, just be away from everything. It was a place of fond memories that had never failed to sooth his troubles.

He bites his lip. Five miles is not a long distance. And at the speed Sirius is going it would be even shorter than usual. It is only a matter of minutes before the Dalton exit on the left is in front of them.

Remus stares at Sirius, hopes he gets the silent message to take the turn. Sirius does not move from the far right lane. With the aid of a deep breath, Remus nudges the steering wheel in the direction of the left. Sirius pushes his hands away and keeps on going straight ahead. Golden eyes fly quickly from the exit ramp to Sirius and back again twice.

Remus lunges for the wheel, throws all of his weight onto it so that the car swerves left sharply and tares up the ramp, nearly toppling off the road as he lets go to straighten it out.

“Remus, what the-”

Remus quiets him and Sirius takes off, ninety, through the small town of Dalton with its old, big Victorian style homes. Remus keeps a keen eye trained on the road in the off hand that some poor pedestrian just happens to be wandering around at the ungodly hour.

The sports car tares through the small, sleepy town in what must be record time and the old, brick road opens up into a wide, flat, straight dirt road. Sirius gives the car an extra burst of speed for the freedom the open fields with the rows of corn growing in them that flank the country road gives him.

Dust and dirt fly up behind them and, twenty miles later, when Remus nudges on the wheel again, Sirius lets Remus direct him to a deserted parking lot. One with fading yellow lines, cracked asphalt that has grass and other unsightly weeds growing up from the cracks, and tall street lights that have all had their lights busted out.

At the far end of the empty parking lot rose a sloping hill. The beautiful slope of nature looked out of place next to the ugly, abused, man made parking lot.

Sirius takes a fast lap around the vast lot with sharp turns that have the car on only two wheels and slams it to a stop in the middle of the lot. Remus is quiet and waits. The grim Animagus puts his foot hard on the brake first and then the gas so that the tires squeal against the pavement. Gray smoke that smells of burning rubber obscures them.

When he stops, his breathing is fast and he fixes his gaze on how the light of the car headlights catch the dust mites and make them visible to the human eye.

Remus reaches over, brushes his fingers gently over Sirius’ and turns the ignition off. Sirius lets him and does not fight.

“Better?” Remus asks as his hand seeks out the back of Sirius’ neck and massages there. He asks yet he already knows the answer. Yeah, better.

“Yeah, better.”

Remus loves how well he knows the twists and turns of Sirius Black, a bucking bronco that no one but he can ride.

Remus smiles a little and massages the nape of Sirius’ neck some more. Gray eyes close slowly and Sirius rests back in his seat. Good. He takes his hand carefully away, brushes his fingers over Sirius’ lips and opens the door.

Sirius watches from the black, leather interior comfort of the car as Remus walks around the front, to his side, and opens the door. He lets Remus help him out, lets him sling his arm around his shoulders, and lets himself be led toward the far off hill. After going so fast it feels good to slow down.

The hill’s big enough so that you cannot see over it, but nowhere big enough to be deemed a good sledding spot. They scale it easily, with Remus’ arm still slung over Sirius’ shoulders. They reach the top and stare out at the vastness of the field, admiring.

The sprawling field is huge, stretches on forever, with a pond far off to the left. A wind blows and stirs the goose feathers and wild grasses at their feet out of a slumber to swirl around them and then they drift out over the field that’s spread out like a lazy cat on the back of a couch in the summer heat.

For a long time, all there is to interrupt the silence is the chirp of crickets and the song of the bull frogs. But even they seem to have become a part of the silence, in their own way.

“Are you okay?” Remus asks, eyes watching the soft rippling waves of the glass mirrored pond.

“Yeah. They-” Remus strokes behind Sirius’ ear, shushes him.

“It’s alright. You don’t need to say anything.”

Sirius swallows thickly, nods, thankful that he does not have to explain.

“The blood-” it has been on Remus’ mind, because of the lingering smell that will not let him forget that it had been there.

“I already told you. I don’t know whose. I didn’t lie to you.” His tone was not accusing.

“I know, that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

“Then what?”

“The blood…Is it yours?”

The question takes him aback; he did not expect that one.

“No, it’s not-” Sirius doesn’t get to finish as Remus turns and embraces him tightly.

That’s all he cares about. That’s all that matters. As selfish as it sounds, as long as Sirius was okay then…He was okay too. Sirius wraps his arms around the other, buries his head in the crook of Remus’ shoulder.

“I love you,” Remus murmurs against his shoulder, words barred by the black, long sleeved shirt that Sirius has on. Sirius smiles, smiles bitterly.

“I love you, too.”

Remus can hear it, the bitterness in Sirius’ voice. Can feel it in the way his soft lips move against the bare skin of his neck. He pulls back, eyes searching and a bit guarded.

“Is that a burden?”

“No, not a burden at all.”

Silence reigns once more, allowing for the crickets and the bull frogs to sing their song.

“Then why…Bitter?”

Sirius bares his teeth shortly in a humorless smile and turns his back on Remus.

“I’m asking why too, Remus. Why? Why do you love me?”

“Why do I…?” he trails off disbelievingly. “I thought that much was obvious. I never took you for a stupid man, Sirius Black.”

“Horrible judge of character then.”

“I love you, Padfoot, because…You make me happy…I couldn’t imagine my life without you…I…Just do. Does that make any sense? Isn’t that how you feel?” Hopeful, almost.

“Yeah. Yeah, Moony, that’s exactly how I feel. But…You deserve much better.”

“Better…? Sirius, there is no better,” Remus says, and he would have laughed had the situation not been so serious. “I love you-”

“How can you love me when I’m so tainted!” He roars, spins around, button at the cuff undone and sleeve ripped up to his shoulder, so that the black skull and serpent stare back at Remus from Sirius’ left forearm.

Remus growls low in his throat and pulls the neck of his shirt down so that his right shoulder is exposed. The angry, raised flesh of the scar stands out clearly against the backdrop of his pale skin.

“No less tainted than I am.”

“You didn’t choose yours.” Sirius yanks the sleeve down but does not bother to do up the cuff again. Remus lets go of the neck line and smoothes his shirt out.

“Fate chose mine the same way it did yours.”

Sirius snorts, changes the subject.

“This isn’t easy for you-”

“As if Voldemort and the rest of his Death Eaters aren’t all over you all the time to get rid of Dumbledore’s pet werewolf.”

Sirius winces and Remus sighs, steps closer and brushes the hair away from Sirius’ face.

“I’m glad you’re home safe.”

“Yeah, home.” Sirius’ eyes scan the field with its orchestra of insects and gleaming waters.

“Home isn’t a house, it’s right here.” Remus pulls Sirius against his chest and lets him feel his heart beat. Sirius smiles, bends his head to kiss Remus on top of his head.

“Come up with that cheesy saying all by yourself, Moony?”

Remus bumps his head under Sirius’ chin gently.

“You mean to tell me that I spent all day trying to think of that cheesy saying all by my lonesome only to have you insult it? I’m so under appreciated,” he mock sighs softly.

Sirius sighs. “Just not up to standards, Moony,” he smirks. “Usually, they’re even cheesier.”

“Shut up, prat.”

“I love you, is that better?”

“Hmmm, yeah. I love you too…Even if you are a foot licking Death Eater.” Laugher hidden behind the words that Sirius does not miss.

“Oh, Moony, I love you too, you Order minion, bending to Dumbledore’s every beck and call.”

Remus hugs him, inhales his sent, pushes him away, and sprints down the hill.

“Race you!” His hand shoots toward the direction of the pond. Sirius laughs, takes off down the hill.

Halfway there, he remembers that…

Sirius’ two legged figure melts into that of Padfoot’s. He shakes out his coat and bolts after Remus. He gains on him quickly and snaps playfully at his heels as he thunders past him.

They stayed there even after the sun rose.

The walls they built, of laughter, smiles, friendship, and love were strong enough to keep out thoughts of Death Eater raids, Order missions, and what to eat for breakfast the next morning. Whether they were romping in the abandoned Dolton field, or driving home in their little back spots car with Sirius’ arm around the back of Remus’ seat, or at home itself, or even as they collapsed, exhausted with content smiles on their lips, on the bed.


End file.
